Chapter 2

Veronica pushed her way past the bodyguard and hurried aft. She had to put as much distance as possible between herself and that man. She couldn’t put very much distance between them in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, could she? They weren’t in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, either, were they? They were no more than seventy nautical miles off Singapore. If she really wanted to, she could get the chopper pilot to fly her back to the city. She could go to the Police and be on the first plane back to San Francisco.

She ducked into the butler’s pantry behind the galley and threw her back against the wall. She had to stop her mind whirling. She had to get herself together and figure out what to do about Prince Said.

Her mind and heart tumbled in a whirlwind of thoughts and ideas and emotions and sensations. Her heart raced, and adrenaline set her nerves on edge. What did she just do? Why did she ever bend over when he told her to?

The spank he gave her for daring to speak rang through her being. Never had anyone dared treat her like that—certainly not as part of a sexual advance. How could she respond to that abuse?

She did respond to it, though. Even now, halfway across the ship, it thrilled her beyond belief. She ached for something between her legs, something to satisfy that insatiable itch deep inside her hidden channel. She needed something thick and hard moving deep into her forgotten recesses to answer the gnawing need consuming her guts.

Every inch of her flesh cried out to be touched, to be annoyed to a fevered pitch. She ran her hands up her sides to her breasts and squeezed them with both hands, but that only made it worse. She pushed herself off the wall and flew out of the butler’s pantry.

She had to find somewhere to go. She could go back to her own quarters and finger herself, but she didn’t want that. What did she want? Her mind scurried through a thousand possibilities, but she always came back to the same thing. She wanted more of what he did to her in that room.

Again and again, she replayed the spank. It clapped across her ass with a burning fire. It left an indelible imprint, not only on her ass, but on her very soul. She could never cleanse herself of that smack, not with a million showers. It woke something in her innermost being she never knew was there.

Even after the memory ceased to intrude on her thoughts against her will, she brought it up again and again. She stopped herself in the act of thinking about this evening’s dinner entertainment to summon the memory back. It triggered the same reaction in her dripping pussy. Her lips twitched and the muscles along her canal spasmed with rabid desire.

What did she want? She wanted him to smack her again, and again. She wanted him to finger her juicy slit and ask her those penetrating questions. Do you like me touching you like this, Veronica?

Yes, sir. Oh, yes sir.

She could repeat those words a thousand times and they would never lose their power. Yes, sir. Whatever he said, she would always respond, Yes, sir. Yes, sir, I like it. Yes, sir, my pussy is wet. Yes, sir, I want to bend over and be your sweet, southern thing.

What was she thinking, repeating those words to herself? Where was her self-respect? She had a job to do, and she wouldn’t let him interfere with it. Maybe he was just toying with her. He would throw his dinner party. He would disembark in Hawaii and she would never see him again. So much the better. In all likelihood, he would never call her or expect anything else from her. This was all an elaborate joke.

She busied herself with her work duties. She finished the inventory of the galley stores. She double-checked the staff time sheets and sent a detailed menu to the chef for Prince Said’s dinner party. Then she sat down at her desk to plan the entertainment.

What would a man like Prince Said appreciate? Belly dancers? No, that might give him ideas. It gave her ideas, and it brought a warm ooze between her legs. Before she knew it, she leaned back in the chair and trailed her fingertips up her thighs.

She yanked them away when she heard voices out in the salon. She stuck her head out of the door and heard Prince Said talking to the steward. “And a roast beef sandwich with pickles and a side salad with vinaigrette dressing. And a bottle of water, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, sir.”

“The maitre d’ said you have alcoholic beverages on board.”

“Yes, sir, but you also have a wet bar and a fridge stocked with beer and other drinks in your cabin. Didn’t the maitre d’ point that out to you? That’s not like her.”

“I’m afraid I kept her busy with some other business at the time, but I don’t want to drink in my cabin. Could you please send my lunch up to the forward deck, along with a Tanqueray and tonic?”

“Of course, sir. Olives?”

“No, thank you. Just plain.”

“Of course, sir.”

One set of footsteps receded forward, while the other went aft toward the kitchen. Veronica tried to concentrate on her preparations, but she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about the conversation she just overheard. There was one way she could find out if his attention in his cabin was a fluke.

She went to the kitchen and made some pretext of talking to the chef while she made the sandwich. She watched the chef’s expert hands put the sandwich on the plate with the salad next to it.

The steward appeared with the drink in one hand. Veronica smiled at him. “I’ll take this up to the deck for Prince Said. I’m going that way anyway to talk to him about his dinner party.”

The steward handed over the drink, and Veronica carried it and the plate up to the forward deck. Her heart thudded in her temples. What was she doing up here? She had no choice but to stare the awful truth in the face. She wanted to get near him. She wanted to throw herself in his way. What would he do?

Her pussy quivered when she saw him. He sat in a deck chair under an umbrella. He wore sunglasses, and he’d changed out of his suit. He wore light grey slacks and a short sleeved shirt.

She walked around in front of him to set the plate and glass on the iron table in front of him. She had to bend over facing away from him to put it down. Her pussy stretched against her panties and the damp cotton cut between her butt cheeks. Every corpuscle screamed for his touch.

She put down the drink and the lunch. He murmured, “Thank you, Veronica.”

She stood up and waited. Nothing happened. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t budge from his seat. He gazed across the azure sea toward the horizon.

Her cheeks burned. Her neck and belly burned. Every inch of her burned. Did he really mean to dismiss her like some kind of waitress? Did he really mean to ignore her, when she came all this way to place herself in his path? Did he expect her to just walk away without so much as a touch?

She stood next to him and stared down at his reclining form. His body shimmered with that glowing presence she noticed in the security office. His skin burnished golden brown in the sun. Through his thin cotton clothes, his muscles showed crisp and defined under the velvet skin.

Her body screamed for his touch. Sliding his fingers up her leg and under her skirt to her panties. Bending her over and spanking her taut buttocks. Guiding her around to sit down on his lap. Pushing her head down between his legs.

The next minute, she ran for the companionway. He didn’t want her. He didn’t even notice her. What an idiot she was to come up here! She would never again treat him as anything but a regular guest. She would forget all about him.

She went back to her office, but those lunatic thoughts kept cycling back before her eyes. His face between her legs. His hips bumping her ass from behind. His finger in her ass while he pushed her down on the bed.

She tossed her pen on the desk and stormed out. She marched along the companionway to the staff quarters under the main dining room. She found her own tiny berth and locked the door behind her. She stretched out on top of her blankets and closed her eyes.

In the privacy of her own quarters, she gave herself over to her fantasies. She would never have anything to do with Prince Said again, so she could dream about whatever she wanted.

She let her hands glide down her neck to her chest. She massaged her breasts through her shirt and let the pleasure wash over her. How long had it been since she touched herself? For that matter, how long had it been since she enjoyed the company of a man? She hadn’t known anyone since she came on board the Diamantina.

She stood out in the hall and listened to screams and cries and moans after delivering a tasty young woman to some rich tycoon. She even heard blows and begging and growled obscenities. Those filthy words, the threats, and the begging pleas for deliverance fired Veronica’s blood. She hid under the covers while she secretly titillated herself to orgasm.

Her experience with Prince Said was nothing like those sounds drifting through  a closed door. The fantasies she called up before her mind’s eye, the stinging slap of a man’s hand across nubile female flesh, the murmured promises of wet dreams—all those things happened not to an anonymous Asian whore. They happened to her.

That hand descended on her round buttocks. It whistled through the air. Prince Said’s breath caught in his throat just before his hand landed. Then the impact sent shock waves through her body. It jostled her pussy, and her muscles tightened and squeezed fresh spurts of juice across her lips. Her clitoris jerked erect and howled against her panties for relief.

His fingers circumscribed their erotic circle over her swollen vulva. He rubbed the harsh cotton into her sore flesh. He swirled her pussy juices in their flaming cauldron.

Then he smelled his fingers while he gazed on her confused infatuation. He drove her to the brink of madness and left her on tenterhooks of unfulfilled passion. Did she turn him on the way he turned her on? She would never know for certain.

She let her hands glide down to her hips when a twinkling music made her start out of her skin. She snatched her phone from her pocket and swept her finger across the screen. Prince Said requests your presence in the forward cabin.

Oh, great. Perfect timing. She smoothed down her skirt and fixed the blanket on the bed. She unlocked the door and raced forward, but she slowed down when she got close to where the other staff might be working.

She walked with unruffled calm past the kitchen and the salon. Once beyond them, she quickened her pace. What did he want now? Would he do something to her this time? Would he strike her, or fulfill her fantasies?

She found the bodyguard standing outside the door again. She couldn’t hide her burning cheeks from him when she knocked the door. He must have seen this kind of thing a thousand times. Maybe Prince Said did this to every maitre d’ he ever met.

A deep male voice called out from inside the cabin, “Come in.”